by Penny Birch
I agreed, and would have been happy to sit and drink tea and chat for a while, but she was in a hurry. She left her cup half-empty and me feeling rather pleased with myself.
Seven
I TURNED UP at Cirano’s at a quarter to eight, after going home to shower and change, then twiddling my thumbs in a Soho coffee bar for a bit while Lydia got steamed up. When I came in I wondered if I’d left it a little too long, because she looked fit for murder, and her attempt to force a smile came out as an angry scowl. On the table was a document, which she pushed across to me as I sat down.
‘There we are. I got what you wanted, but it wasn’t easy. Now sign.’
‘Daddy says I should never sign anything until I’ve read it, understood it and had it assessed by two independent experts.’
‘It’s all there. Now stop pissing about.’
I ignored her and picked up the document, read the first few lines, put it down and picked up the wine list. They had a Langhe Bianco, which was tempting, but Lydia was drinking gin and tonic and I didn’t really want a whole bottle of white with my antipasto. I signalled a waiter.
‘Do you have the Langhe by the glass?’
He belonged to the unreconstructedly macho school of Italian waitering and immediately began to flirt with me. I responded, enjoying teasing him almost as much as Lydia’s increasing irritation, but I did genuinely need a drink and finally sent him away to get me a glass of Langhe, having insisted he open a new bottle. Only then did I go back to reading the contract.
It was more or less as I’d anticipated, accepting my terms subject to a long string of conditions, the most important of which was that I wouldn’t get my advance payment until Orpheus had seen a letter from Gilbert and Otto agreeing to consider their offer. That was more than I’d expected, and there was no quibbling about my three per cent, although that made no real difference. All in all it was perfectly acceptable, but there was still a lot of fun to be had with Lydia, who was holding out a pen even as I put the contract back down on the table.
‘I’ll have to think about it,’ I told her.
‘What’s to think about? That’s our final offer.’
‘You said that before.’
‘This time I mean it, Natasha. For goodness’ sake, you’re behaving like a baby! This will make you rich!’
‘I wouldn’t say rich, and as it goes I quite like behaving like a baby. You ought to try it, especially being put in nappies. That feels wonderful.’
‘You’re a pervert, Natasha.’
‘And you’re not?’
‘Not like you. Now come on, sign.’
‘Hmm . . . no. You’re going to have to make me. I always loved those films in which some dastardly villain tries to force the heroine to sign some damning document by threatening her with unspeakable things . . . only of course for me the dashing young hero doesn’t turn up and I actually get the unspeakable things done to me.’
She drew a heavy sigh.
‘Business first, Natasha. I’ll take you to bed later, and believe me—’
‘No. You’re going to have to force me.’
‘Tasha, look—’
‘Lighten up, will you? I’ll sign the stupid thing, but I want to play with you. Now have another drink and imagine all the horrible things you can do to me.’
She threw her hands up in exasperation, drained the remainder of her G and T, then buried her nose in the menu. I did the same, grinning to myself as I tried to decide what to have. If she was going to be rough with me later it was probably best not to have too much, or anything too rich, but all I’d had for lunch was a cup of tea, and there was a pasta with a complicated sauce of goat’s meat and exotic mushrooms that I simply couldn’t resist.
I ordered it as my main meal and tucked into the antipasto my waiter had brought. Confident that I would give in eventually, and now on her fourth or maybe fifth G and T, Lydia began to relax. The waiter, perhaps sensing that we were up for trouble, grew ever more flirtatious, introducing himself as Cristiano and telling us that our boyfriends were fools for letting us out on our own. Lydia came close to giving him a piece of her mind at that, but I winked at her before she could get her words in order.
‘What makes you think we have boyfriends?’ I asked.
‘You have boyfriends,’ he answered. ‘How would it be otherwise? Two girls as beautiful as you.’
‘Maybe we’re lesbians?’ I suggested.
He nearly dropped the bottle from which he’d been refilling my glass, but rallied.
‘No, never on God’s earth. A woman as beautiful as you does not need to be a lesbian.’
‘You macho pig!’ Lydia answered him. ‘As a matter of fact we are lesbians.’
I kicked her under the table.
‘Sort of lesbians. We like boys too. In fact . . .’
He had a bow tie on, the sort that fastens with elastic. I hooked a finger behind it and drew his head slowly down to the level of my mouth.
‘. . . in fact, what we like best is for a nice, strong young man to watch us, and maybe . . . just maybe, even join in.’
I let go of his bow tie, which snapped back against his neck, but I doubt he even noticed. He was staring like one of those goldfish with the bulbous eyes, while the bulge in his tight black trousers looked a great deal larger than it had earlier. The restaurant was quite dark, and nobody was looking, so I reached out and gave his cock a gentle squeeze, finding a fat, almost full erection. This time he dropped the bottle, which exploded on the tiles with a bang, drawing the attention of his superior.
The resulting spat of remonstrances and apologies, mostly in Italian, made it extremely hard to keep a straight face, especially with Lydia glaring at me. I got us a second bottle of wine for free and the incident left Cristiano deflated and me feeling full of mischief. By the time we’d finished I was up for anything, at least once my food had gone down a little, while I had Lydia wound up to breaking point as well as drunk and horny. As we left I gave Cristiano a smile and a flutter of my fingers, but when he made an urgent signal for us to come back and speak to him I simply walked away.
‘You are such a bitch!’ Lydia said with a laugh as we emerged on to the street.
‘What, me? If I’d wanted to be a bitch I’d have said he could watch us later, then given him the wrong address. No, no, even better – go through with it, but pick up some bi-guy in one of the bars and then tell Cristiano he can watch us if he sucks the other man off!’
‘You are evil, Natasha! What if he went for it?’
‘Then he gets to watch us play.’
‘I wouldn’t do it, but I might make you suck him off.’
‘Oh, yes, please. OK, mine or yours?’
‘I warn you, Tasha, if we go home together you had better watch out.’
‘Oh, that’s fine. There’s nothing like a bit of real anger to bring out the best in a sadist, don’t you think?’
She answered with a despairing shake of her head and took my hand, leading me up Frith Street. There were quite a few people about, but I was too drunk and horny to care, also eager to get the best out of her.
‘You can be as rough as you like,’ I told her, ‘but my bottom’s a bit tender.’
‘It’ll be a lot more tender by the time I’m finished with you,’ she answered. ‘So what happened to you, slut?’
‘They had me caned, Gilbert Hambling and some of his friends.’
‘The dirty old bastards!’
‘They spanked me too, one at a time, and they made me suck their cocks.’
‘You’ve got to learn to hold yourself back, Natasha. If you let a man have you straight off it makes it a lot harder to control him later.’
‘Not for me.’
‘You’re a slut, Natasha.’
‘I know, and they really took advantage of that, but for real perverts the man I met in France was worse. The bastard tied me up and gave me a pussy enema, with my own wine, then left me in bondage. I think he was hoping I’d pee myself
. I do seem to attract perverts, don’t I?’
She laughed.
‘It’s not that you always meet perverts, Tasha. It’s that everybody who gets you into bed realises it’s their big chance to indulge whatever sick fantasy they’ve been too scared to try out with anybody less malleable.’
‘In others words they’re perverts.’
‘Not necessarily. I’m sure he’d have been perfectly well behaved if it had been me instead of you.’
‘Maybe,’ I admitted. ‘Let’s get a cab, and you can make me suck the driver off for our fare, if you like.’
Again she shook her head, but stuck out her arm at the same time, signalling the second of a pair of black cabs just passing us. The driver was a middle-aged black guy with grizzled hair and a paunch, and I smacked my lips at the thought of having my head held down in his lap by Lydia as I licked and mouthed his penis, sucking and swallowing his spunk to pay a fare of a few pounds.
‘Marylebone High Street,’ Lydia ordered.
‘Buxton Mews,’ I added, ‘just off Paddington Street. I’ll pay you there, nicely.’
Lydia shot me a doubtful glance.
‘Please?’ I urged.
‘I’m not sure . . .’
‘Oh, OK, if you haven’t got the guts.’
Her expression hardened and without a moment’s hesitation she leant forward to the little window separating us from the driver’s compartment.
‘Cabbie, could we pay by having my friend suck you off?’
We were stuck in traffic and he turned around, looking none too pleased.
‘I’ve got a living to make, girl, so either you pay, or you get your dirty bitch girlfriend out of my cab.’
‘Spoilsport,’ I told him.
Lydia had extracted a ten-pound note from her bag and passed it to him.
‘There, that should cover it, and if you want a suck anyway I’ll make her—’
‘That’s not the same . . .,’ I began, whining, but she wasn’t finished.
‘—and she’ll pay you. Twenty quid.’
I nearly came. It was bad enough prostituting myself in order to pay my cab fare, but to have to pay for the privilege of sucking the bastard’s cock was almost too much. My body had gone limp, barely controlled save for the desire to spread my thighs and open my mouth. As the traffic began to move again I was lying back in my seat, shaking at the thought of how I’d begged to be degraded. The play of shadows and yellow lights on Lydia’s face gave her a near-demonic cruelty.
The journey seemed to take forever, and my tension increased with every pause at a traffic light. By the time we got to the mews I was so far gone I’d have done it on my knees in the street, but fortunately Lydia had more sense, and made him park between two vans belonging to some hire company. I’d chosen the mews well: the hire company was just one of a row of premises that were all closed, and as the cabbie got into the back with us I knew there was very little chance of being caught.
‘Do it with your breasts out,’ Lydia ordered, her voice thick with sadistic pleasure.
I didn’t need to be told; my dress was already up above my waist and my bra raised to spill out my tits. The cabbie was a dirty bastard, leaning forward to grope me without bothering to ask if he could touch, and licking his lips as he squeezed my boobs and rubbed his big, coarse thumbs over my nipples. I unzipped him as he groped me, to find that he had no underpants on, his fat cock popping up from his fly the moment it was open. He was big, his skin hot and moist, his shaft heavy with blood. I pulled his balls out too, to leave the leathery black scrotum bulging obscenely from his open trousers and his cock rearing above it in my hand.
He pulled me forward by my tits, forcing me into an awkward position as he folded them around his shaft, jiggling them in his hands to get friction on his cock. My bottom was sticking out and Lydia quickly pulled down the back of my panties, letting the cool air get to my wet pussy and maing me feel more vulnerable than ever. If she ordered me to let him put himself up my cunt I knew I would do it, but that came later. For now it was time for me to suck cock.
I went down, taking him in, the thick male taste filling my mouth along with the meaty texture of his helmet. He took me by the hair, forcing himself deeper until his knob was pressed into my throat, making me gag. Lydia slipped a hand between my legs, exploring my pussy as I sucked, two fingers stuck up me. I wondered if she was getting me ready for fucking, and whether she’d make me pay extra for the privilege of surrendering my cunt to the over-eager bastard who was now fucking my mouth.
She began to spank me too, calling me a bitch and whore, laughing at the choking sounds I was making as the now rock-hard cock in my mouth was forced deeper. I could hardly breathe, and my eyes were watering so badly I could feel the tears running down my face, streaking my make-up and blurring my vision. Yet I wanted to come, my hands on my tits and my bottom wriggling on Lydia’s intruding fingers, my head full of filthy thoughts. I wanted him to fuck me and then put his cock back in my mouth to make me suck up my own juices. I wanted him to make me hold my mouth open so he could spunk in it and watch me swallow his mess. I wanted him to bugger me and make me lick his cock clean while Lydia laughed at me and smacked my fat pink bottom for being such a slut.
I got none of it, but I did get something almost as good. He’d began to grunt and swear, calling me a filthy bitch and a whore as he fucked my throat. His grip was tight in my hair, painfully so, allowing me no chance of escape, so that when he suddenly jerked my head back there was nothing I could do but yield as he began to tug on his thick brown shaft, right in my face. My mouth was open, ready to be filled with spunk, my eyes tight closed. He began to slap his cock in my face, hard, as he masturbated furiously.
‘Do it,’ Lydia growled. ‘Right in her face. Go on, come in her face and rub it all over with your cock.’
‘Shut up, bitch,’ the cabbie snapped, and he was there.
I felt the hot, wet come splash over my face and into my mouth, again and a third time, soiling my skin and hair, before he stuck his cock back into my mouth, slimy with spunk as he finished himself off down my throat. He’d done a lot, and I could imagine how I’d look, with my make-up smudged, my face dirty with streaks and blobs of thick white spunk, his fat brown cock shaft still stuck in my mouth as I sucked on him. I wanted to come, just as I was, soiled and humiliated, showing off to them as I rubbed my cunt over what they’d done to me. My hands went down, but Lydia slapped my bottom hard and pulled them away.
‘Oh no you don’t, not until I’ve finished with you, and no cleaning up either. Now pay the man.’
‘Twenty pounds,’ he reminded me.
There was a streamer of spunk over my left eye and I didn’t dare open it, but my right was OK and I quickly found my bag and extracted a twenty-pound note. My fingers were shaking badly as I gave it to him, but even then there was no sympathy.
‘Out,’ he ordered. ‘Some of us have got work to do.’
We climbed out, and Lydia helped me pull up my panties and adjust my bra and dress as the cabbie got back into the front. He drove off without another word, leaving me trembling and horny, my face still dirty with his come.
‘Can I at least wipe my eye?’ I asked.
‘I suppose so,’ she said, her voice full of cruel laughter. ‘What a sight you are! Shit!’
I turned sharply as she spoke, realising that she’d seen somebody, but not expecting to find two men seated in the front of the nearest of the two vans. They’d been in darkness before, but one of them had opened the door, making the interior light come on. I backed away a little, scared and shocked by their sudden appearance. They could hardly have failed to realise what had been going on.
The man who’d opened the van door climbed out. He was tall, lanky and young, maybe still a teenager, darker-skinned even than the cabbie, and grinning. The other was still in the cab, a white boy a little older but a great deal less confident, his round moon face set in an expression of lust but also doubt and wonder,
his mouth hanging open, a thin trickle of saliva drooling from one corner. He didn’t look dangerous, but the first one was squeezing his cock through his trousers and there was aggression in his voice as he spoke.
‘So what, you couldn’t pay your fare, or you get off on sucking black guys?’
I already knew his cock was going in my mouth, maybe up my cunt, but all I could do was nod. Lydia spoke quickly, scared but determined.
‘Not me. She does. She’ll do you, if that’s what you want.’
The man looked from her to me and back, shrugged, opened his trousers and flopped out a long, dark cock.
‘Come on then. I’m Blake, the fat bastard’s Lucas. He’ll want to watch, or you can do him too.’
I barely heard him, my body on automatic, and I got down on my knees. The ground was hard, cold and dirty with oil, but I barely noticed as Blake stepped forward to feed his penis into my mouth. He was grinning and making obscene gestures to his friend as I began to suck, but he was less of a bastard than the cabbie, allowing me to suck the way I wanted to and not trying to force himself down my throat.
He was soon hard, just as my fear had soon given way to submission and lust. If I’d tried to turn him down he might have turned nasty, maybe, but now he had his cock in my mouth he’d be OK, and if he chose to fuck me I’d just have to take it. I was wishing he would, but he’d begun to toss himself into my mouth and it looked as if I’d be made to swallow.
Lydia had stepped away, her back to the second van, more worried about whether she’d be made to take a cock in her own precious mouth than about what I was doing. Not that Blake was likely to harass her, because I had his full attention, but it didn’t look as if she’d try to control me; now I could come while I sucked. So I pulled up my dress and flopped out my tits for the second time within minutes, to rub them on Blake’s cock and let him fuck my cleavage for a moment before taking him in my mouth again.
‘Come on, man,’ Blake urged, signalling to his friend. ‘She’s up for it.’
I nodded, beckoning to Lucas. As he climbed down from the van, still uncertain, I pushed a hand down the front of my knickers, masturbating as I rubbed my face against Blake’s long, thin erection. Lucas came close, far from sure of himself, so I gave him some attention, unzipping him and pulling out his cock and balls. Now I had two cocks to play with, one white, one black, both erect – Lucas had obviously been playing with himself in the van.